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It’s hard not to watch her. Severa has a bladed grace to the way she fights, a dance only learnt by those who cannot even remember a time before this awful war of theirs. It’s fluid, but more grounded than the style of Inigo or Owain, where not a single motion is wasted. Lucina grew up being drilled by her father in the royal technique, perfected over centuries, but there is something about how fearlessly Severa charges into fights, throwing aside blows with a jerk of her shielded shoulder, that makes her almost jealous. Maybe it is her fighting style, not a mirror of someone else’s but one she has designed herself, ramshackle but elegant, strange but brilliant. Or maybe it’s just how brave she is, how willing she is to throw herself into danger to keep the rest of them safe.
It almost puts Lucina to shame, when Severa acts like that. She should be their leader, their protector, the fiercest and bravest of them all. But she still finds herself a step behind Severa every time.
At least that gives her plenty of time to admire her form.
A bandit’s axe skids off Severa’s shield, and the sword she swings out at him afterwards makes the man stumble back, his balance lost. Lucina sweeps in before he can regain his footing, sinks her sword into his chest. The bandit chokes, and when Lucina drags her sword out, he slumps to the ground. Severa shoots her a glare, even as her footing changes, and she steps in front of a swordsman and deflects his sword before it can approach Lucina.
“I had that.” She grumbles.
Lucina steps beside her, throws a jab at the swordsman’s right side, leaving his left open for Severa to roughly hack into.
“I know you did.” Lucina tells her, in the spare second she finds between enemies. “But it’s faster if we work together, isn’t it?”
Severa grumbles more, too indistinct for Lucina to hear. But she lets Lucina stay in step with her, and catches every blade that swings towards Lucina, even those Lucina doesn’t see.
Despite the shared affinity for swords, their styles differ greatly. Lucina follows the forms of the exalt, smooth and clean and practiced. Severa’s style is rougher, the style of a sellsword, mixing the styles and stances of a hundred different origins. Feroxi strength mixing with Chon’sin grace, switching into the defensive forms of the Ylissean knights.
Somehow, they fight well together. For all her complaints, Severa is skilled at creating openings for Lucina to slip into, and she always recognises the openings Lucina leaves for her in return.
It’s strangely comfortable, having Severa dance in sync with her. Anyone else and Lucina would have to shout out her intentions, warn them before she tries a particularly risky move. But Severa seems to know how Lucina is about to act before even she does.
Even when this battle ends, it feels natural to keep pace with her as they walk back to camp. Safe, almost, if it’s even possible to feel safe anymore.
She means to tell Severa something elegant, some compliment on how well they work together, how much she admires Severa’s handmade but deadly fighting style. What comes out instead is an awkward “Would you fight me again?”
When Severa stares at her, she tries to clarify. “With me. Would you fight with me, next time?”
“If I had to.” Severa says, slowly. Lucina tries to keep her disappointment off her face.
“Oh.” Lucina says. “We fought well today?”
“I guess?” Severa is still staring at her, and Lucina tries not to let it shake her. Having that much of her focus on her is intense, but strangely pleasant. Lucina can’t tell if she wants her to look away or not. “Did you hit your head while I wasn’t looking?”
“No?”
“No?” Severa repeats. “Are you sure?”
What Lucina wouldn’t give to have inherited her mother’s bluntness, to be able to cut through this awkward situation with a sword and be done with it.
“I am sure.” She says, instead. It doesn’t seem to satisfy Severa, and she keeps shooting looks at her from the corner of her eyes.
Severa finds Lucina by the fire later that night. Still awake, still working. While she doesn’t doubt that someone needs to sort through the mixed pile of weapons and armour they’ve looted from Risen and bandits over the past week, surely that could be done at a better time than deep in the night, by their leader. Especially when Severa is convinced said leader must have tripped head first into something heavy today, what with her stumbling words and drifting eyes.
“Shouldn’t you be in bed.” She says, looking down at her from above.
“I could say the same about you.” Lucina says.
Severa ignores that. “Is sorting that garbage really worth losing sleep over?”
Lucina looks away from her. She looks down at the item she’s holding in her hands instead, a broken arrowhead that Severa can see the specks of rust on, even from here. She tilts it in her hands, lets it catch the light, tests the edge with a press of her thumb.
“I was feeling restless.” She says, finally. “I needed something to occupy my hands.”
Severa leans in, presses the back of her hand against Lucina’s forehead. It doesn’t feel any warmer than it should, given that Lucina has been sitting in front of a fire for who knows how long. She frowns. She’s not feverish, then. And Severa had dragged her to Brady’s tent when they first arrived back in camp to ensure she hadn’t picked up a concussion during their fight.
She tries not to let the thought of Lucina being sick press too heavily on her mind.
Lucina’s face looks flushed when she pulls away. Severa has nearly bitten out something about her sitting too close to the fire, but she doesn’t really have the energy for a lecture right now. She leans back instead.
“I know the feeling.” Severa mutters. But Lucina hears her, and she clears a space beside her of the clutter she has been sorting through.
“Will you stay with me then?”
Severa hesitates. But the night has been long enough by herself, and the fire is almost as warm as the look in Lucina’s eyes. She relents, and throws herself down next to Lucina.
There are things she can't say to Lucina. Truths she knows Lucina just won't be able to handle. Like just how expendable they all are, how as much as they may call themselves a team, they are all just Lucina's living, breathing shields.
She's too kind, too self-sacrificing to know that.
It's times like this, watching Lucina quietly inspect an iron dagger, with firelight casting such interesting shadows on her face, that Severa dwells on these thoughts, the heavy ones that she should keep buried within her own chest. That, after everything, after trying so, so hard to avoid following in the footsteps of her parents, picking up a sword instead of a lance, strapping a shield to her shoulder and learning the dirtiest, least honourable fighting styles she could, she's still just Cordelia's shadow. Ready to throw her life away, like a broken sword, should it let her liege breathe for just a minute more.
Cordelia failed in the end. And Severa doesn't like Lucina's chances, with just Severa to protect her.
Lucina tilts her head up, catches Severa's eye, and smiles. Like they are anywhere else but a risen infected forest, like she has any cause to be happy, like Severa means more to the world than one more easily broken shield standing between Lucina and destruction. Who knows? Maybe Lucina really is fool enough to believe that.
“What do you think of this one?” Lucina asks her, holding the dagger out for Severa to take.
Lucina watches over her carefully while Severa inspects it, like this is a test. That makes her uneasy, so she focuses on the knife instead. It’s crude. It looks more like a modified kitchen knife than a weapon that had ever seen the inside of an armoury. The edge of it is still sharp when she tests it, and even if crude, it seems sturdy.
Severa shrugs. “How desperate are we?” She asks. “It’s not great. Maybe Noire could use it for if someone gets too close to her.”
Lucina takes the knife back, carefully lays it in a pile of other weapons. Then she hands Severa another weapon, and then another, asking her opinion on each one. Sometimes she debates, other times she just nods, and sets the item in whichever pile Severa tells her to. Even in such an inconsequential area, it’s nice to have Lucina listen to her, value her opinion.
“Interesting.” Lucina says, after a while, holding the next item up to the light. It’s a chain. A light, thin chain, like it had once been a piece of jewellery, back when that sort of thing held value. Even held up to the light, it’s too dirty to shine much.
“Who picked that piece of rubbish up.” Severa grumbles. “Cynthia? We don’t have enough space to carry around every shiny object we find.”
“You don’t like it?”
“I just don’t think it’s very useful. Look.” Severa leans in close enough to thumb at the chain, finding a heavier section where whatever once hung from it must have snapped off. “It’s broken. We need weapons, not this.”
Lucina goes quiet. But she doesn’t discard it, not immediately. “I thought you were interested in this kind of thing?” she asks.
Severa opens her mouth, closes it again. She was. Or still is, in truth. But that had been when there were still merchants and markets, when it was still possible to find other people who cared about something as inconsequential as looking pretty. From the grumbles of the older merchants, Severa knows there even used to be a time when more cared, when it wasn’t considered strange to waste what small measure of coin and time that they had on something with no practical use. But that time was gone before Severa was born, and it’s more than forgotten now.
“I..” she starts, eloquently. “I would be. If we were safe enough for it to not feel like a waste.”
Lucina hums, rubs her thumb against part of the chain until it’s clean enough to shine. “It’s a nice dream, isn’t it?” she says, quietly. Her voice sounds strange. Her Lucina is strong, unyielding. Now she almost sounds like someone else. “That we could find the time to indulge in anything other than survival. Then you could worry about this again. Make every merchant fear your sharp tongue.”
Severa nudges her, playfully. It makes Lucina smile, if only for a second. “If we could.” Severa starts, cautiously. “What would you do? No more wars, no more world-ending threats. What would you do then?”
Lucina doesn’t answer for a few minutes. She stares into the fire, winds the chain around one finger, around and around.
“I don’t know.” She says finally. She says it softly, but her words hang in the air long after they have been spoken, as heavy as stone. “I’ve never thought about it.”
Severa doesn’t know how long they sit there together like that.
Lucina wonders whether it makes her selfish, to want Severa’s attention on her. Severa has worries of her own to look after, things more important than entertaining Lucina with her company. Especially when she is an almost dangerous distraction to have, in a time like theirs.
She cannot monopolise her time. Such a thing wouldn’t be fair, after all. But if Lucina manipulates circumstance to place her and Severa on watch together more often, to ask Severa to go on patrol with her more often than chance would dictate… Such a thing would still be called selfish. But something about Severa is magnetic, and makes Lucina feel at ease around her.
But she should have realised Severa would notice. Lucina is many things, but few have ever called her subtle.
“Do you not trust me?” Severa asks, miles from their camp, where no one but Lucina can hear her. “I’ve noticed you always partner up with me. Is that it?”
“I do trust you.” Lucina replies. “There’s no one I would rather have watch my back.”
Severa flips her hair over her shoulder, and looks away from Lucina. “If you say so.”
Lucina frowns to herself. Severa is hardly the easiest person to read. Sometimes she wishes Severa could just be forthright with her. With all of them, really. That whatever insecurities lead to her doubting Lucina’s trust in her could fall off her shoulders like a worn cloak, heavy but unneeded. Lucina tries to tell herself that Severa’s doubt in her doesn’t hurt.
“If you would prefer to work with someone else,” Lucina starts, softly, “you are more than free to.”
“I never said that.” Severa says. “I just don’t understand why you would want to be around me so much.”
“Oh.” Lucina says. She tries not to sound hurt. But she doesn’t sound convincing, not even to her own ears.
Severa reaches out to touch Lucina’s arm. She looks guilty. She opens her mouth, closes it, opens it again. “Look I…” She trails off, and draws her hand back from where it had lingered on Lucina’s arm. She misses the contact immediately, but Lucina cannot think of any graceful words that would convince Severa to bring it back. That would not cross any unspoken boundary. She swallows the desire instead. “I just don’t get it. You’re… well, you. You’ve been carrying us from the start. I’m just. Whatever.”
Lucina stops in place. The forest around them is dead quiet, as if holding its breath. Waiting. “I don’t understand why you doubt yourself like that. I’ve been relying on you for years.”
Severa scoffs, and Lucina steps in closer.
“I mean it. You are always so resolute in battle, no matter how bad it gets. I admire that strength.”
A dry branch snaps nearby, and Severa’s head moves towards the sound.
Lucina continues. “If I have been carrying us all, it is only because I have had you to rely on.”
Severa breaks her off, puts a finger to her lips.
“Do you hear that?” she asks.
“Hear what?” Lucina asks.
The shadows of the trees shift, coalesce into something solid. One Risen, then another, then another. Severa swears under her breath.
Severa shifts into a stance faster than Lucina can keep track of, drawing her sword in one clean movement. While Lucina is still taking stock of how many enemies they are surrounded by, she charges forward, and cleaves the head off the first Risen she collides with.
Lucina follows her lead, drawing Falchion’s comforting weight into her hands, and draws a deep breath, slipping her body into the forms that have become like second nature to her now. She glides forward, takes a swing at a Risen swordsman who had been getting uncomfortably close to Severa’s back. Before she can finish it off, Severa has slipped into step beside her, and sunk her sword into it.
Lucina should not let herself get distracted, especially not when they are surrounded by foes. But she cannot stop her eyes from continuously drifting over to watch Severa. Moving in sync with her is a joy in and of itself, but being able to watch the effortless grace with which she moves is something else.
She is so strong, so fierce, Lucina thinks. She had meant every last thing she had said to Severa, even if it did not feel as if Severa believed a single word she said. It’s strange, to try to reconcile someone whose abilities she both admires and relies upon with the girl who does little but doubt her own strengths, puts no stock in the skills she has worked so hard to master.
There is a comfort, to fight by her side. It makes Lucina feel strong too. Makes her want to push herself harder than she has been, to prove Severa’s trust in her well placed.
Lucina turns to check on Severa, catches a Risen holding an axe sneak up behind her, raise its axe to strike before Severa catches sight. The axe descends down towards Severa, and Lucina rushes in to intercept it. She has to abandon her careful stance to do so, rush and charge in to the fray just like Severa does. She thrusts her sword into the Risen’s chest, piercing whatever passes for a heart in its chest.
“Lucina-” she hears shouted behind her, and she turns her head towards the sound, feeling Severa’s hand grab at her arm and pull in the instant before the Risen’s still falling axe collides with her head and make her stumble back and fall.
Lucina’s head hits the ground, and she tries to focus on the chaos above her. She can hear Severa shouting, hear the dull thud her sword makes against the few remaining Risen. That’s nice, she thinks, distantly, that Severa is still protecting her. That’s a constant Lucina can’t go without. She remembers wanting to protect her in return, only moments before. It’s only fair, she thinks.
The sounds of fighting stop, and Lucina grumbles, reaches out for the girl she hopes is still there. Her head hurts. Makes focusing hard. But she knows that she wants Severa, protective and constant and strong, to still be here with her.
She feels Severa brush her hair away from her eyes, and she smiles up at her. Lucina’s thoughts are dull, confused, thick like mud. Wading through them, trying to slice into the why and the how is too hard. Not when all she can really focus on is the feeling of having Severa hold her like this.
She hears Severa swear. It’s strangely nice. A familiar sound. “Focus on me, okay?” Severa tells her. “Don’t drift anywhere else, you hear?”
“Don’t want anywhere else.” Lucina slurs. “You’re here.”
“Are you really flirting right now?”
Lucina reaches out clumsily, hits Severa in the face before she manages to find her jaw, trace her fingers down it. That’s nice too. Makes her feel warm. She can only just focus on how rare it is for Severa to let her do this, to touch her without any reason to. Which is strange. Lucina always has a good reason. Severa is nice, and warm, and comforting. Being near her makes the world make sense.
Lucina cracks an eye open. It makes her head hurt, so she closes it again before she gets more than a blurry after-image of Severa looking down at her.
“You’re pretty.” She says.
“You can’t even see me properly.” Severa says.
“I know it though. Always true.”
She feels Severa touch her hand softly, the one still cupping Severa’s jaw. It makes her feel warmer still. Lucina focuses on that feeling, through the haze in her head. It’s the only thing she can focus on.
Severa’s there when Lucina wakes. Her head hurts, with the slightest movement sending sharp flashes of pain through her skull, like she is being struck with an axe. Again. Lucina groans as she tries to sit up, and she touches the back of her head with her hand, just to check that she isn’t still bleeding.
“You’re not dying.” Severa says. “Despite how hard you tried to make that happen.”
While her tone is cold, Severa is gentle when she stops Lucina from standing up, pressing her hand against Lucina’s shoulder until she leans back against the wall. But her touch doesn’t linger, and when Lucina turns to look at her, she doesn’t make eye contact, busying herself with pouring a glass of water from a nearby jug. She brings the cup to Lucina’s mouth, and refuses to move until Lucina takes it from her, and drinks as much as she can stomach. Severa takes the cup away from her, sets it back on the table with more force than is necessary.
“I apologise if I made you worry.” Lucina says. “I never meant to.”
“I’m sure you didn’t mean to.” Severa fires back. “You-” she breaks herself off almost violently, biting down on her words before they can escape. Lucina tries to reach out to her, to give her even the slightest amount of comfort, but Severa takes a step away before she can touch her. Lucina curls her hand up in her lap instead, tries not to look hurt.
“I didn’t want to see you hurt.” Lucina says. “You protect me all the time. I wanted to repay the favour, but I may have been too reckless, this time. I’m sorry.”
“You don’t need to beg for my forgiveness.” Severa says. Her tone is still sharp, but there is an undercurrent of pain to it, like all her jagged edges have cut into her as well. Something about that makes Lucina’s heart ache. She knows Severa, knows how often her sharp tongue and fast words have gotten her in trouble before, how few people are willing to stand it. But she so rarely turns them on Lucina.
“Don’t risk yourself for me.” Severa continues. “I’m not worth it.”
Severa has wound into herself, like a ball of steel wire, bound too tight to unravel. She won’t meet Lucina’s eyes, just glares at a spot a few inches away from Lucina’s head.
“You are.” Lucina says. “I need you.”
Severa snaps. “I know what I’m worth Lucina, and I’m not worth you!”
“Severa…”
“Why must you do this, again and again! You’re killing me! Do you know what it’s like to have to serve someone like you?”
That hits Lucina right in her chest, leaves her staring at Severa in silence, hoping she will back down, take her words back. That what has been spoken can be unspoken, actions undone, that she can unwind this chain wrapped around both of them.
“I never wanted you to serve me.” She says, softly. “You are not bound to me like that. I see you as my equal.”
This time, when Lucina reaches for her, Severa doesn’t dodge her, but lets her take her wrist in her hand. She only holds it lightly, light enough that Severa could escape, if she really wanted to. But it lets her feel Severa’s pulse, lets her feel that she is warm, and alive, and still here. With her. That even if Severa is upset at her, that she can will still stand by her side, through it all.
Lucina can only hope that that will never change.
“I think I’ve hurt you.” Lucina says. “I’m sorry. I never wanted that.” She can hear her voice break, turn from strong to weak in an instant. But she forges through. “But being near you… makes me feel safe. In a way that few other things can. I don’t know if I could have withstood all we’ve fought through if I didn’t know that you would be there by my side. But I never should have pushed you like this.”
When she looks up, Severa is staring at her like she’s mad. It’s a worryingly familiar sight, Lucina thinks. But, inch by inch, Severa begins to unravel from her tense posture.
“I didn’t know that.” Severa says. She is still watching Lucina closely, her eyes flicking over her as if expecting to catch her out on some lie. “Do you really believe that?”
“Which part?”
“That I make you feel safe.”
“Oh. Yes.”
“…Why?”
Lucina looks away from her, feeling heat creep up her neck. It’s too much, keeping eye contact with Severa when she is staring at her like that, like she is trying to see into Lucina’s mind. And as much as Lucina would like to be honest with her, there are some things she’s not quite ready to come to light. Things she fears she hinted at a touch too heavily while she was injured, when Severa held her in her arms and everything had clicked into place.
“I fear you will think less of me if I tell you.” Lucina says.
“Just tell me.” Severa retorts. The bladed edges have disappeared from her voice, left it warm.
“I watch you sometimes.” Lucina starts. “In battles. You are so fearless. So relentless in protecting the things you care about. When I am next to you, I never feel like I have to fear for the future, whether we will survive. I know you’ll keep me safe.”
“I didn’t this time.”
“I don’t blame you. This was my fault.”
“You shouldn’t say that.” Severa says, frowning. Her frown only deepens when Lucina drops her hand, leaves her standing awkwardly with one arm hanging out, before she pulls it back to her side.
“But it was. Still, I don’t regret it. I would have hated you being hurt instead.”
Severa pauses for a moment, before she gestures for Lucina to move over, leaving space for Severa to clamber into the bed beside her. There isn’t much space. These beds are small for one person, and it leaves Lucina at risk of falling out entirely if she were to turn too far in her sleep. It’s even more precarious with two people, leaves no room for either of them if Severa were anywhere other than pressed close to her side. Lucina can feel heat crawl up her neck once more, but this time she forces herself to not look away.
“You’re an idiot.” Severa tells her.
Feeling bold, Lucina indulges her immediate impulse and reaches down to take Severa’s hand in hers.
“I know.” She replies. “You’ve already said that.”
“But. If I really make you feel like that?”
“I promise you do.”
Severa squeezes her hand too tight, and doesn’t let go for a few seconds. “Then you can stay close to me. If you want.”
“You’re sure?”
“Someone has to keep you out of trouble.”
Lucina snorts with as little grace as she can muster. “I am lucky to have you by my side, Severa.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
When they both fall quiet, it’s natural. Comfortable. Lucina is tempted to hold her tongue forever, if it will let her stay here like this. With her. With Severa pressed so tightly to her side, and not tearing herself away like she normally does. Her Severa can be so prickly, so sharp and unwilling to let even a hint at the softer sides to her be seen. It feels like a lifetime since she last got to see her like this, like the last time they were still children, blind to just how awful their destinies would become.
But she can see the light outside fade slowly, and Lucina can feel the time they have together grow short.
“Severa.” She starts, cautiously. “One other thing.”
“Yeah?”
“It may be selfish of me, but I don’t like the idea of staying here all night.”
“Brady said you should.” Severa says. Lucina doesn’t doubt her ability to keep her here, if Lucina had tried to escape. The thought makes her smile.
“Then, if I am not allowed to leave, may I ask something of you?” Lucina swallows. “Will you stay with me?”
“…What.”
Lucina tenses, feeling Severa draw away from her slightly. She wishes she had spared a single moment more to think over her selfish desires, had considered her words and thrown them aside before giving them breath.
“That was too far. I apologise.”
“Gods, stop apologising.” Severa snaps. “It’s fine.”
“I’m sorry?”
Now it’s Severa’s turn to tense up. From this close, Lucina can feel every slight movement, feel the movement of her shoulder as she tries to cross her arms, even with one hand still wrapped around Lucina’s.
“If it will make you feel better,” Severa says, slowly, softer than she normally does, “I will stay.”
“Oh. Oh!”
“Don’t get too excited. I’m only here to make sure you rest.” Severa reminds her.
“I understand. Thank you.”
“Don’t worry about it.” Severa says, and she leans her head against Lucina’s shoulder, close enough that her hair brushes against Lucina’s neck. It should be too much. Too much contact, too much tension for Lucina to handle. But this feels right. Like a puzzle piece clicking into place.
Lucina smiles to herself, and lets herself enjoy this one moment for what it is. Tomorrow be damned.
Severa isn’t sure whether she is glad to find Lucina by the fire when she goes looking. It’s late enough that both of them should be in bed already, lost to the world and to themselves. Lucina is more likely to do something foolish and reckless if she is not well-rested, and even Severa is aware that she is crabbier than normal when she’s tired. Both options are bad. But some nights settle a discomfort under Severa’s skin, a rash she cannot get rid of, that sends her thoughts in spirals and keeps her awake.
It’s nice to know she’s not alone.
“You again.” Severa says, jabbing lightly at Lucina’s shoulder, making her look up at her. “Do I need to drag you back to your tent?”
Lucina smiles up at her, like she had been expecting Severa to join her. “I won’t stay up much longer.” She tells her. “I was just thinking.”
There are a hundred places for Severa to sit, but she steals the spot next to Lucina. It’s warmer there, and it amuses her to see Lucina play at subtlety when she leans further into Severa’s side. To think, that it took her as long as it did to figure out that particular secret, when Lucina has always worn her heart on her sleeve.
“What about?” Severa asks, idly. She is expecting that to have been an excuse, but Lucina’s expression turns serious, and she ponders her words for a few seconds.
“Do you remember asking me what I would do, if I could choose anything?”
Severa frowns, confused. She hadn’t realised Lucina had dwelt on that question. She hadn’t had an answer, last time, and Severa had assumed that she had thrown the thought out of her mind like a broken tool. Why would she bother dwelling, she wonders, on a question they may never even need to answer?
“I do. Do you know now?” She asks, still. Too curious not to.
Lucina glances at her from the corner of her eye. “If we won, however, that may happen, duty would ask me to stay in Ylisse, to rebuild it, lead the people there. Even if we did find a way to change the past, it would still ask me to stay.”
Lucina holds herself strangely when she says that, her shoulders tense, her hands wrapped tight in her lap. Severa nudges her lightly, trying to untangle some of that tension from her frame. It only half works.
“I don’t remember asking duty.” Severa rolls her eyes. “I don’t care what the princess is supposed to do. I wanted to know what you would do, if you had the freedom to do whatever you wanted.”
“Oh.” Lucina says, surprised.
“And please don’t say ‘I don’t know’ again.”
Lucina is silent for a moment, considering the question carefully. That Severa appreciates, that she doesn’t just brush her off or ignore her. She taps a finger against her hand, and stares into the fire, while Severa watches the way her expression changes as she thinks. It’s strangely charming, how easy it is to read her, how Lucina is not afraid to show herself, even in such a small moment such as this.
“I think.” Lucina starts. “That if I had the chance. And nothing else depended on me, that I was free to make the choice as I willed, that I would like to see the world. As it truly is, when it is not mostly destroyed. I remember some of what Lady Say’ri said about her home country, and Khan Flavia of hers. I’d like to visit them in person.”
“Huh. A royal visit, then?”
Lucina shrugs. Severa feels each subtlety of movement, as if she had made it herself.
“No. I think… If I had the chance, I would like to be considered a stranger, just another traveller. Just… Lucina, for once, not the last of the exalts, not the girl meant to save us all. Just me.”
“It’s a nice dream.” Severa tells her. She pauses for a moment, thinks. The thought that Lucina would hesitate so much in telling her what she thought, in telling her what she really wants, hurts. But it is a dull hurt. It is not a blade directed at her, but rather at the burden Lucina carries with her always. As much as she may lambast her for being reckless, for causing Severa to worry as much as she does, Lucina must carry the heaviest burden of all.
Lucina turns her head towards her, leans heavily into Severa, as if she is not already pressed into her side, as if Severa is even capable of saying no to her at this point. But she lets Lucina have this small thing, easy as it is to grant. She cannot deny even to herself that she does not enjoy it in turn.
“If I did run away from all responsibility to explore the world,” Lucina says, a flush beginning to crawl up her neck, “could I tempt you into joining me?”
Severa makes herself think for a moment. If she is being logical, being thoughtful, like she is meant to, she should pause longer. Really, she should say no, remind Lucina of what it means to be exalted. That someone like her cannot just run away for something so frivolous.
But Severa pressured her into answering this, to begin with. Into answering as herself, and not as the woman she is expected to be. And when it comes to that, to thinking of Lucina the young woman, not Lucina the princess, Severa finds herself torn further.
Can she really ask Lucina to stay honest with her if she is not honest in return?
“You should ask me that when the decision means something.” Severa says. Then she swallows, gathers honesty like armour. “But I just might. If it were you asking me.”
Lucina smiles, bright and clear and unburdened. It lifts something heavy off Severa’s chest, and she lets herself admire it freely.
Severa takes Lucina’s hand in hers, holds it tight. If this had been the world they had been born in, formulaic and divided by such stiff rules, Severa would have been torn away from Lucina before she could have gotten this far. But they are alone here, and under the shroud of night there is no one to interrupt them, to remind either of them what the shattered society that birthed them would think of this impropriety. There is a freedom in destruction. Severa feels daring in this, and in every other action she has taken. But Lucina has only ever seemed to egg her on.
“Keep that dream.” Severa tells her. “No matter how unrealistic it seems. You need something to fight for.”
“I have enough to fight for already.” Lucina says, and she is closer still to Severa with every passing moment. And mad as she is, Severa lets her. Wants her closer still, even.
Lucina leans in, and Severa doesn’t think. She just tilts her head to meet her halfway, enjoying the soft gasp that escapes Lucina when their lips meet.
It’s obvious that Lucina is inexperienced. Her kiss shifts from eager to hesitant, and back again, and her hands float around Severa’s waist, never brave enough to land. It should make it awkward, make her tear herself away to critique her. But it’s so earnest, so Lucina, that Severa finds herself charmed anyway. She takes Lucina’s drifting hands in hers, settles them on her waist. She may just have something to teach Lucina, yet. The thought sends a thrill down Severa’s spine.
Severa breaks their kiss for a moment, and when Lucina unconsciously chases her lips, she rests a finger on them instead, the surprise making Lucina making Lucina open her eyes again.
“Don’t forget to breathe.” Severa reminds her, gently. She cringes at how soft her voice is, but Lucina listens to her, leans away. But only by a fraction. If it were anyone else, Severa would be irritated by that invasion of her personal space. When it’s Lucina she doesn’t mind.
Severa moves her hand, traces Lucina’s jaw lightly. Some traitorous part of her stomach twists at that action, not believing that Severa is allowed to. That she can invade Lucina’s space in return, touch her out of nothing more serious than a fleeting desire to know how soft her skin will feel under her touch. That there are no guards or knights to break them apart, remind them of things such as duty and propriety.
There’s one benefit to the world ending.
“Severa.” Lucina whispers. “Was that too much?”
“It was fine.” Severa says. Lucina tenses, and Severa backtracks as fast as she can. “I mean- It was good. Really good.”
“Oh.” Lucina shuffles impossibly closer, and a shy smile creeps back onto her face. “Can I kiss you again?”
Severa pulls her in rather than reply.
And maybe Severa ought to have paused a moment more. To consider this choice before acting, to have locked Lucina into the role she was born to, the heritage she had no choice over. But it is hard to forget the girl she knows, earnest and whole-hearted and brave. And surely it is cruel to force Lucina into a role she did not ask for.
There is so much uncertainty in their future. Their lives are not safe, and the chances of them succeeding in their mad quest are slim. What harm is there, in seeking out what comfort they can find, small as it may be?
And maybe. Just maybe. The dice will roll in their favour, and Lucina will get her mad dream.
For now, Lucina’s touch is soft, and it banishes away any lingering fear the night brings. Severa can only hope she brings a fraction of the comfort Lucina grants to her.